


Bare Your Soul

by lettersforsale



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Angst with a Happy Ending, BDSM, Dom/sub, Domestic Discipline, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Punishment, References to Drugs, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2019-11-06 13:13:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 6,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17940359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lettersforsale/pseuds/lettersforsale
Summary: It wasn’t easy being a Sub and it wasn’t easy having freaky superpowers and it wasn’t easy belonging to the Hargreeves family, so basically Klaus’ life was fucked up in more than one aspect.(Or the BDSM AU, where everybody needs a hug.)





	1. Diego

The sky was a bleak pale grey when Diego got out of the car, walked the short way to Eudora’s house, hesitated and then returned to his car, tapping his fingers against the car window and staring at her front door. This was… difficult and the fact that he found coming here and… apologizing difficult was even more irritating, which was fucked up because he shouldn’t feel this way, because he hadn’t done anything, because Eudora had no reason to be upset. But. He was still here. (And he shouldn’t be since it hadn’t really been Diego’s fault anyway.) But still. Still…

“Fuck it”, he muttered under his breath, walked up to Eudora’s door again and knocked forcefully. It was just a few words and then he would leave and that would be it. It was ridiculous to feel this weak and vulnerable and Eudora was probably not even home, so after a moment Diego started counting. One. Two. Three, four – he would leave at ten. Five, six seven, eight- the door opened and Eudora didn’t seem too thrilled to see him. She raised an eyebrow; her face was hard and unimpressed. “What do you want, Diego?”

“I’m-“ He regretted coming here. He should leave, she didn’t want him apologizing, this was stupid as fuck. And also, he was supposed to say something and not look like an idiot. “Sorry for stealing evidence.” So yeah, he could go now, no need to stay, but Eudora’s expression softened slightly and her eyes became a bit kinder and yes, Diego remembered the reason why he had come and accepted the humiliation of admitting his mistake. Eudora was… unique. He… liked her.

“Well, thank you. Anything else?”

“No. Not really.” He shook his head no and leaned against the door frame, trying to appear unbothered by her approval.

“You just came here to apologize?” Now she even smiled. It was nice, beautiful. Diego stared at her and didn’t know what to say.

“No. No, I’m busy, I have stuff do to.” Which wasn’t a complete lie.

“Right. Stuff.” Eudora nodded. “Very important stuff, I assume?”

“Yeah.” Obviously, she was making fun of him but Diego didn’t care, not really, not now. After considering what he should do to relieve the shameful gnawing guilt that had settled in his stomach after Eudora had discovered him at the crime scene (again), handcuffed him (again), and ignored him for the next days (again), Diego had come to think that it might’ve been his fault. Somehow. Apologizing had seemed challenging but the simplest solution – he actually felt a lot better, which was unexpected but positively surprising.

“Right, go save the world – or the neighborhood. Just do it without our evidence, yes?” Diego could hear the smile in her voice and he almost wanted to stay. Almost, but he wasn’t an idiot. (Or, well, not most times.)

“Yes, ma’am.” Though he didn’t plan on giving his theft back.

With a quiet pleasure running through his veins Diego went back to his car and turned on the radio. Today was a good day, he had done well, no more regrets. No more guilt. He pulled out of the parking space and sped along the streets, way too fast and way too satisfied.

Later that day he found out that Reginald Hargreeves had died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Hargreeves family shares two braincells and this was Diego's time to use them. 
> 
> (Apparently I started a new fic and updates will be as sporadic as always. Also I'm not sure who to focus on? I like Diego and Klaus, so they'll probably be the main protagonists in this fic... but I'd love to hear your opinion!)
> 
> (Tags will be updated with new chapters.)


	2. Klaus

It wasn’t easy being a Sub and it wasn’t easy having freaky superpowers and it wasn’t easy belonging to the Hargreeves family, so basically Klaus’ life was fucked up in more than one aspect. Which was kind of super shitty but at least the world offered drugs and music, too, and that made everything a little bit more bearable.

“Stay sober”, Klaus murmured to himself, repeating the words of the guy at the rehabilitation center mockingly. “Stay sober…. That’s _so_ boring. So so boring – no, really, sorry mister, can’t do that. I can’t do that…” He needed some nice little pills, maybe a bit weed, maybe a good fuck – not necessarily in that order.

“I don’t do boring stuff”, he hummed. His right hand was shaking and Klaus stopped abruptly on the sidewalk to bring it up to his eyes and examine his hand closely. The nail polish on his fingers was almost scraped off, and that was indeed concerning. Also his hand didn’t stop shaking, but… he guessed that he could ignore that for a while. “Maybe I’ll die from it.” He gasped in false shock. Wouldn’t that be just a fantastic solution? Mhh, it could end so quickly…

It didn’t take long to find a guy willing to provide him with happy pills and sex even though Klaus had to admit that the latter was a bit disappointing. “What do you think?”, he asked, panting, while the nameless man behind him – it could be Jim? James? Jackson? – roughly grabbed his hips. “Blue? Like some sparkly dark blue? I’m not sure if I even have that color but it would be pretty, wouldn’t it?” Klaus stared at his fingers intently.

Jim or James or Jackson slapped his ass, and ow, that actually hurt; despite claiming the contradictory, Klaus didn’t actually like pain that much. “Oh… can you rub it better? Please?” God, he could be so nice and the Dom didn’t even deserve it. Apparently he didn’t care either, because he just slapped Klaus’ ass again and it stung and Klaus wanted to cry for a tiny tiny bit of a second. But he didn’t, since crying never helped, duh. Instead he focused on the bright twirls on the ceiling and wanted to vanish, become one with the sheets beneath him, just one soft lump in a shabby apartment with broken windows and no curtains. Klaus giggled at that image and JimJamesJackson’s nails dug deep into his skin when he came with a very unsexy grunt, that stayed in Klaus’ memory for the rest of that day. “Hey, I wasn’t even finished”, he complained when the man pulled out of him unceremonially. “How about some love? And a massage?”

“Fuck off if you don’t want me to get my belt.” And JimJamesJackson had seemed so nice at first, what a shame.

“Or we could do both?”, Klaus asked hopefully. He didn’t really feel like moving, not when the ceiling still looked this mesmerizing. “You could massage me and then whip me and work on your anger issues?” As soon as worn leather landed forcefully on his shoulders, he regretted this particular suggestion.

"You're... really good at that. Ow." Layers of stripes of fire added up on his back, but ah... the ceiling remained untouched by the Dom's anger and moved soothingly back and forth... Klaus' eyelids became heavy while the room around him vanished in darkness.

-

Pain - and shock - and pain - and wow, bright blue lights! Klaus was- he was... Where was he?! Ah... Right. Right, nothing new, no unfamiliar environment. The back of the ambulance appeared exciting and safe and nice. He was still _alive_. He was still alive... Grinning, Klaus sat up. Everything felt sore and shaky, but full of energy - he had missed this. The paramedic next to him seemed relieved and Reginald Hargreeves was dead... yes, yes, just the usual. _How_ he had missed this. His father was... His father was dead. Oh?


	3. Diego

He was back at the house, back with his family – no, his siblings, since family was a big word that Diego had never fully understood. Why bother calling someone ‘Dad’ who had never loved his children anyway? And yet, Diego did; in his mind Reginald Hargreeves had been his father because who else could have been?! And Mom was Mom even though she wasn’t like them, would never be.  
He couldn’t believe that he had actually come.

Out of the corner of his eyes he made out a small figure in the hallway, who looked at him with unhappy eyes. Vanya. Not a lot had changed about her since he had last seen her: she still radiated an aura of anguish and misery. Weak little Vanya, she had never been one of them either.

“What is she doing here?”, Diego asked and didn’t wait for an answer. There was no reason to pay attention to Vanya’s presence, or Allison, who frowned at him disapprovingly. Yeah yeah, he wasn’t exactly nice, understood. But the world wasn’t nice to him, so Diego had to cope. He passed them without looking back and walked up the stairs, and a part of him wanted to be here to make the mansion _his_ place instead of Dad’s, and a part of him wanted to leave because he knew it could never be. Once, Eudora had told him about her home and Diego had looked up the word in a dictionary later on. Apparently, ‘home’ was many things, that could differ greatly.

For one second he actually hesitated to step into Dad’s room, but he had no reason to be nervous anymore. No old man who would glare at him in disappointment- oh, how Diego had hated that look. Now there was just Luther standing in the dusty silence, surrounded by old books, clothes, bizarre collections and rare antiquities. The room was full and yet felt incredibly empty.

“I can save you some time. They’re all locked”, Diego said, struggling to recall the feeling of making Eudora smile and how the praise in her voice had sounded like.

And yes, he just had to show off a bit, after all he had been quicker, was in possession of (stolen) evidence and had beaten his brother, was actually two steps ahead of him. To be fair, he suppressed the tiny voice in his head that this was too obvious, that Luther realized he cared. Diego cared too fucking much about Dad’s death, he knew that, he hated himself for it. But: he had also beaten Luther and that was a nice change.

“Oh, you got big, Luther”, he teased him humorlessly. Amazing; his brother was still so serious and determined. Bossy, dominant. Looking at Diego like he had murdered Dad himself.

No, Reginald Hargreeves had never been this important, he would have never wasted a knife on him. Nevertheless, Diego felt anger build up in him due to Luther’s obvious distrust. Just his brother, he reminded himself. He didn’t owe him anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Diego a Switch? A Sub? I can't decide, but I don't really see him as a Dom. Hm?


	4. Klaus

So… Dad was dead. Yay?

Klaus wasn’t quite sure what to make of these circumstances, so he just stopped thinking about the less than solemn atmosphere and started making cocktails, which was a much better occupation of his time. Usually, alcohol made things better. Usually…

The bruises on his back and ass still stung when he sat down, but Klaus preferred sitting over standing, which could be exhausting, and carefully leaned back against the soft fabric of the sofa. None of his siblings realized his ginger movements – of course they didn’t, being concerned and asking “Klaus, what is it? Klaus do you need help?” would be too much, and he didn’t need their sympathy anyway. If they had any. Mhh.

It was just like in old times, all of them together: Luther was talking about Dad and the chances of him being murdered, Allison watched him, cocking her head slightly, Diego sighed and rolled his eyes, and Vanya sat next to Klaus, very quiet and very earnest. Almost- almost like a ghost! Klaus smiled and then didn’t. No, not funny, definitely not. No, no.

He sipped at his drink and lit a cigarette, which promptly caused Luther to scold him, god he was so tiresome, really, why was Klaus here?

“Put that out. You know Dad didn’t allow smoking in here.” Luther. Luther, Luther, hadn’t changed one bit. Klaus smiled at him.

“What are you going to do? Spank me?”

He almost laughed out loud at the thought; the way he looked now, Luther would probably break his leg or arm or wrist on accident – the image seemed ridiculous. Like a… werewolf, who wanted to play with a fairy, with Klaus being the fairy, obviously.

“No. But it is clear that you would benefit from that.” Luther crossed his arms, his face unimpressed.

“Aw.” Klaus waved his hands at him. “Tragic. And I actually put a skirt on – that would make it so easy.”

“You put _my_ skirt on”, Allison corrected him. Wasn’t that the same thing?

“Yep, skirt. A very beautiful skirt, I have to say.” But that didn’t seem to make his sister happier. Klaus sighed. Well, life was tough.

“He should’ve been stricter with you.” Luther again, and Klaus remembered why he hadn’t missed him, Dad’s Number One. Faint memories of cold stone beneath his feet, stale air in his lungs and sharp screams flashed through him and Klaus closed his eyes, suddenly not so keen on his drink anymore.

“Hm, should’ve, could’ve. Now it’s too late, darling brother. We can’t go back.”

“Thank God”, Diego said.

Thank God, indeed.


	5. Diego

Fighting Luther was one of the easiest things in the world for Diego. Every time he tried to protect Dad and his reputation, claiming that he had wanted “the best for them”, there was a roaring flame in Diego’s throat and a searing spark of fury in his heart. No, Dad had never wanted that. He had wanted soldiers, period. Perfect, obedient, disciplined soldiers. Never had he actually thought of them as individuals. So fuck him, and fuck Luther.

“Are you leaving? Are we leaving?” Out of nowhere Klaus appeared next to Diego, rubbing his hands.

“No.” Diego didn’t look at him. His hands were still clenched into fists.

“Ah, is that a ‘no’ concerning you or us? Or me? Or the ‘leaving’ part?” Klaus was still following him, poking Diego’s arm like a maniac, which he probably was.

“You’re not coming with me”, Diego said and meant it. He might not be certain where he would go next to deal with his anger but he sure as hell didn’t need his brother accompanying him there. Yeah, no, definitely not.

“Hey- hey, no!” Almost desperately, Klaus wrapped his fingers around Diego’s wrist when he opened the door of his car.  “No. I can’t stay here. It’s not… you know…” He gesticulated with his hands, tracing frames in the air and indicating a… house? Ah. Of course.

Even Klaus was able to interpret the current atmosphere in the mansion.

“It’s not a home? Yeah, no shit.” Diego proceeded to get into his car and he heard the quiet click of the back door and Klaus sliding into the seat behind him. Cold fingers twined around his shoulders and squeezed slightly, grazing the skin of Diego’s neck.

“Aw, thanks. You’re the best. Mh…” The fingers left his shoulder as Klaus leaned back. (Being touched by him reminded Diego of having siblings – ~~a bunch of people~~ \- which he occasionally tended – ~~longed~~ \- to forget.) He stared at the steering wheel and listened to Klaus’ monologue about hummingbirds, volcanoes, Allison’s fashion sense. Dad’s monocle weighed heavily in Diego’s pocket, though he didn’t regret taking it, stealing one tiny thing from him when the old man had stolen so much from himself. Diego hadn’t particularly missed Klaus, but now… he was here, and Diego understood. Getting away could be easier than fighting through it, even if he preferred the latter.

“So, where do you want to go?”, he asked Klaus. “And I’m not driving you to places, where people give you alcohol or drugs, keep that in mind.”

“You’re no fun”, Klaus replied. Was Diego supposed to feel sorry for trying to keep his brother sane?

“You can still leave”, he reminded Klaus. It would make things easier, that was certain.

In response Klaus buckled his seatbelt and when Diego glanced at the mirror, he could see him sit up straight and smile innocently. “No, no. I’m staying. And I’m opting for…. waffles? Waffles, please?”

Waffles. Why the fuck not, Diego could eat.

“How polite you can be”, he remarked and heard Klaus snort in amusement, and it felt nice to make someone feel good even if it was just… no, it wasn’t just Klaus. He _was_ Diego’s brother after all.

“Just for you, honey”, Klaus purred. Diego looked at him through the mirror and winked at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I've started to create some edits for this fic and I'm not sure if I should post them as a little bonus... Would you be interested in seeing them?


	6. Diego

“You know, you’re definitely my favorite brother”, Klaus stated and looked lovingly at the waffle on the plate in front of him.

Diego rolled his eyes. Feed the guy and he’ll admire you forever – ah, maybe that had been a mistake. “You only say this because Luther is an asshole, Five is difficult and Ben is dead.” No need for kind words or the like, they both knew how it really was.

“Ouch.” Klaus glanced at Diego for a second and then turned to his waffle again. “Don’t talk about Ben like he can’t hear you.

“Right. Sorry, Ben.” And now he was talking to his deceased brother, actually apologizing; what kind of day was it?! Diego nudged his own waffle with his fork, suspicious about the texture; it had been a while since he’d last eaten something sweet. Eggs and bacon were more his style.

“No, seriously, I also like how you just started to hit our dear brother – very impressive. And the way you…”, Klaus shook his fist in feigned victory, “missed and divided our family even further: Amazing. Truly incredible.”

Klaus and his tendency to address things that nobody wanted him to. No, it hadn’t been Diego’s fault, he was not the one to blame for this conflict. But Klaus had said it and even if he was wrong, tiny flickers of bitter shame started to rise in his stomach. “Shut up”, Diego said.

“Mh, are you hurt by the truth?” Klaus raised one eyebrow and pointed his fork at him. “Can the stoic Knifey Mcpunchthroat not handle a little joke?”

“Aren’t you sore enough? Because I can sure as hell add some more bruises to your back”, Diego replied. If he had read the signs right, Klaus didn’t knew where the line was concerning many things. Choosing the right Dom had never been one of his strengths… but then again, who could blame Klaus for it? Dad hadn’t exactly taught any of them about healthy relationships – another one of his many flaws.

“You don’t mean that.” Klaus stared at him, his face far too readable with a half-grin that wanted Diego to laugh with him and vulnerable eyes that weren’t quite certain of his intentions. Immediately, Diego regretted his threat and focused on his plate. “You should be more careful”, he said, and the guilt gnawed on his insides a bit more.

Klaus gave him a watery smile. “Aren’t you observant.”

 

Bonus:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be Klaus again! :)


	7. Klaus

Diego... Diego had actually figured him out: Klaus and his fucked up – no, just slightly peculiar – or wait… no, fucked up lifestyle, and his preference for Doms with soft skin and hard fists. Ah, apparently Klaus couldn’t hide anymore, since his not-so-ugly secret (because, really, it might hurt sometimes, but the sex wasn’t that bad) was out now.

“I’m very careful”, he assured his brother. “I only take pills that had a happy life before they landed in my mouth. And I only fuck people, who wear at least one sock on their feet.” Klaus nodded earnestly. He had standards after all.

Yeah?” Diego glanced at him and then stabbed his waffle with his fork like it had murdered at least one cute, fluffy, innocent puppy. “Guess your life is really great.”

Klaus shrugged his shoulders. “Can’t complain, thank you for asking.” It could be worse: For instance, he could not be eating waffles right now and listen to the soul-piercing whispers and whimpers of the dead.

With a force that Klaus thought was completely unnecessary, Diego brought his fork down on the table.

“You’re really fucking stupid”, his brother observed.

Uh, yes. News? Klaus didn’t even flinch. Same old, same old: “Stupid” or “useless” or “worthless” or “You need to try harder”, “It’s not about what you want”. They were just words now, a hollow string of letters that had lost their meaning a long time ago until they didn’t felt real anymore.

“And you’re not very creative”, Klaus responded. Maybe one day he’d actually meet somebody with innovative insults – who was incredibly beautiful as well – and then Klaus would marry that person. Probably.

“Do you even care?”, Diego wanted to know. “Or is this- is being alive one big, unfunny joke to you?”

“I mean, if you put it that way…” Klaus put his head on his chin and thought hard. Or was there a better metaphor, something that wasn’t as cliché as Diego’s, something more… worthy of putting on a gravestone?

“Yeah, if you die I’m not coming to your funeral”, Diego said, seemingly calmer (due to Klaus’ lack of imagination? Damnit.)

“Suddenly you’re not my favorite brother anymore”, Klaus pouted. And here he had been, already thinking about what Diego would wear in the case of his death – black, most likely, as always, and a bit boring to be fair. “Ben would be there.” He could see Ben shaking his head slowly. “Traitor”, Klaus hissed at him. He could’ve sworn that Diego almost smiled.

“If I disappear under mysterious circumstances and you show up two days later at the last place I was seen, too overwhelmed by your emotions to come earlier, and wiping a tear away discreetly”, Klaus demonstrated the movement in an exalted motion, “Then I want you to wear a pink tie. And because of this I’ll know that you’d always loved me. Deeply. So so deeply.” He clutched his chest in false agony. “Will you do that for me?”

“Absolutely not.”

Eh, he had tried.

 

Bonus:


	8. Diego

Diego had really tried this time. He had tried hard to not get caught by Eudora at a crime scene again – (he always tried, to be fair, with just one tiny tiny part of him looking forward to her actually taking control.)

Because her knowing he had questioned their witness, and then her disappointment that pierced his heart, and then her scolding… it was humiliating. It _was_. Diego wasn’t some kind of underage Sub who needed a slap on his wrist and strict rules, he could take care of himself. He didn’t need a Dom, he was fine. And yet Diego was quiet and didn’t say anything while Eudora said a lot.

“You know that you’re not supposed to do these things – you know that, Diego, don’t you? You have a brain and you are capable of remembering what happened last time, right? So I really don’t understand why we have to go over this again and again.”

Oh yeah, she was angry. Well, frustrated; Diego had never seen her truly angry, which was impressive in its own way: he knew that he could be quite irritating.

“Eudora-“

“No.”

Right, politeness and stuff, respecting her wishes. “Detective Patch”, he tried again and she narrowed her eyes at him.

Theoretically, Diego wasn’t stupid and fully aware that he broke the law regularly, but he was also aware of Eudora doing the same thing… Kind of. According to her orders she was supposed to take him into custody and fill out some forms regarding disciplinary actions, not take matters into her own hands. However, they had an arrangement, plain and simple and weird and unusual. As long as Diego didn’t take it too far he would never end up in prison, just over her knee (pretending to be remorseful. He got frequently hit, stabbed and shot, so his pain tolerance was high.) It was a nice game to play though, and it would never be more than that. Diego didn’t do relationships. (And Eudora was busy.)

“Detective Patch”, he said and ignored the way it the words sounded strange and foreign on his tongue. Now, for the difficult part. “Forgive me?”

It was routine by now, just two small words, but they felt heavy and laden with meaning and memories about warm hands and Eudora’s skin on his. Too good to be true, too good to last.

Eudora glared at him, determined and unyielding. “My place, this evening, eight o’clock. Be on time.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Diego allowed himself a small satisfied smirk. He was always late, earning more punishment, more pain, and more chances to be near her. Yes, it was stupid, yes, he would continue doing it.

“Good boy.”


	9. Klaus

The sun was high on the sky and it was barely noon when Klaus stepped out of the building, a very frustrated Five next to him, who obviously didn’t know anything about politeness or being grateful for Klaus’ help.

“Thank you, Klaus”, Klaus said for him and picked a small glittery star from his shoulder. The snow globe… cute, actually. Cute, but also his temple kind of hurt after his amazing and sudden improvisation. He carefully touched his skin and oh- oh yes, there was blood, okay… okay.

“Thank you for what? This doesn’t even help”, Five replied, a dark look on his face. My, so dramatic; and so young, he could learn a lot from Klaus if he wanted to.

“Mh, I think I did well.” Klaus stared at the sky and considered his wonderful performance again. “Yeah, definitely worth twenty bucks. So… Money? Hm?”

Five raised his eyebrows. “I’m not giving you anything.”

Oh, now that wasn’t fair.

“But honey, I’m so hungry”, Klaus tried with big eyes and a coy smile. Maybe he should’ve become an actor, like Allison… If she would have been jealous? His brother just stared at him, and really, Klaus didn’t mean to think it, but it was adorable, his little shorts and neat haircut and ah, the rage on his face just didn’t fit his appearance at all. Klaus smiled at him. Adorable angry little man. God, he needed some drugs.

“You’re useless”, Five spat at him. Why were all of his siblings like that? ‘Klaus, don’t smoke. Klaus, you’re stupid and useless, and you shouldn’t steal my skirts. Klaus!’ It was tiring.

“You know, you all say this but I never get a full explanation why. Like, a deep, insightful analysis of all of my wrongdoings. How about you write me an essay on them?”, he suggested. Useless Klaus. No, not the greatest nickname, he wanted something more intense.

“I don’t owe you details, that would be wasted time. You’re just… you”, Five said. Was that a compliment?

“Thank you”, Klaus answered, because _he_ had manners.

“Maybe you should think about why people tell you that”, Five continued. “And then work on it.”

Work on what? His blowjob skills? His ability to be quiet when getting fucked even though he wanted to complain about the smell of the sheets beneath him? Klaus was great at those things, he didn’t need improvement.

“You’re so helpful.” He sighed and patted Five’s head, who batted his hand away. “But you don’t know anything about life. Or my life – which is a certain aspect of life, a very confusing one. So how about you do your thing and I do my thing, ja?”

“And what exactly would be _your thing_?”, Five wanted to know.

If Klaus only knew…


	10. Diego

It was dark outside when Diego finally knocked on Eudora’s door. He was an hour late and didn’t care – or he did, since he had deliberately waited this long to come here despite having nothing else to do. But now it was too late for being obedient.

“You’re late”, Eudora said and let him in.

“Yeah? Sorry, I forgot the time.” A lie, an easy lie that flowed smoothly from Diego’s tongue. He didn’t expect for one second that Eudora would believe it.

“You just forgot?”, Eudora asked, and while she still seemed slightly pissed, her face was a lot more relaxed, which was good and bad at the same time. Right now he actually wanted her to be strict. While he didn’t look forward to the punishment part, the time after that could be pretty nice, because for some reason Eudora was very serious about making up for the pain with cuddling – not that Diego would complain about it.

“Sorry”, Diego apologized. Again, for good measure.

“Take your shoes off and do something about your knives. You can stand in the corner until I’m ready.”

The fucking corner, of course. This was Diego’s least favorite element of their arrangement; it was just incredibly boring and he didn’t need it. But he would never tell Eudora that. Her house, her rules, and also she seemed pleased when he followed her instructions like he was actually good. It had been a while since Diego had done anything with a Dom and none of them had been like her. Even though he knew that she would determine what they would do today, he craved her attention and praise, which was kind of contradictory in itself: Those two things didn’t exactly go hand in hand in Diego’s life.

Without shoes and knives he felt naked when he padded to the corner. The floor looked the same as always, the wallpaper was still a dull white, and Diego hated not knowing what happened behind him. Maybe this was an effective punishment indeed.

“You know we don’t have to do this”, he reminded Eudora two minutes after staring at the wall. What was he even supposed to do in this position?

“I’m not doing anything”, Eudora replied and Diego turned his head, only to see that she had curled up on the sofa and was reading a book; apparently they were both bored.

“So… we can skip this and start with the fun part?” He tried to make his idea sound innocent. Maybe it wouldn’t be the fun part but the slightly less awful part at least - as if Eudora could ever truly hurt him…

“Hm, no. You stay where you are and I’ll finish my chapter, and then we can talk. Stop interrupting.”

She was determined this evening. Still it was an uninteresting and monotonous task and Diego almost protested about it. Almost.

“Be good for me, Diego? Please?” Eudora knew what to say to make him weak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my opinion Eudora is a Dom with set rules and she knows exactly how she wants things to be, which might be unfortunate for Diego. (But we all know he is secretly soft and happy to follow.)


	11. Klaus

Klaus had always known that he would be kidnapped one day. Like yeah, why the fuck not, he was good-looking and charming and his family was supposedly rich and could pay a ton of money for his releasement, so it just seemed logical. (And it would probably be really easy, since he couldn’t throw a punch or a knife to defend himself. Next to Vanya he was the most obvious choice.)

However, Klaus thought that being kidnapped should be a lot more fun, not like this, tied to a chair, only wearing a semi-wet towel. He couldn’t reach his drugs, was cold, and he wanted to go home. The people in front of him didn’t want money, just information, but Klaus’ mind was as weak as he felt right now. Shivering, he stared Bad Person Number One, who gently pressed the blazing end of a cigarette into Klaus’ skin and _shit, fuck_ , that really _hurt_! A dry sob escaped his throat; Klaus nearly laughed, because _all of their hard work_ would be for nothing. Nobody in that big empty stupid house would even notice that he was gone, and there was absolutely nothing he could give his kidnappers to get out of this absurd situation. He had liked cigarettes once.

“Where is Five?”, Bad Person Number Two wanted to know and really, why the masks? Was that part of their interrogation technique? Was there a step-by-step tutorial they were supposed to follow?

“Five… Four… Three… I don’t know. But hey, I’m surprised you can actually count that far.”

Next to him, Ben shook his head in disapproval. Yeah, that might not have been his best insult, but Klaus was a little bit distracted. His back _still_ hurt, the cigarette burns on his chest throbbed like blazing fire and the duct tape around Klaus’ wrists itched – all in all, it was a pretty awful morning.

“Can I talk to your boss? Is there a budget that you’re not allowed cross or something? I know a shop where you can get nice handcuffs, with that… fluffy stuff around them, you know?” Klaus vaguely heard himself talk, but didn’t listen; in that part he was one step ahead of his kidnappers. It was a gift, he was almost sure of that. Another one.

“Shut up.”

Oh, they were pissed. Maybe he should offer them a quick fuck, since he didn’t have any money on him, and then he could leave? Wasn’t this how deals were made? One person wants something, and you give… something else?

“Doesn’t it ever get boring? The whole waterboarding and the beatings… Don’t you want to relax? If you untie me I can be very nice to you…”, Klaus said and winced. Even to him that suggestion sounded pathetic. But he could do this, he could handle it, and then he could go home… No problem, it would be fine.

Bad Person Number One slapped his head. “Be quiet. Just be quiet.”

Mh. Or maybe Klaus would be able to keep his dignity.


	12. Diego

While Diego knew that some Subs found staring at a blank patch of wall calming, he wasn’t one of them. Since he couldn’t look behind him to see if Eudora was satisfied yet, he had to rely on his other senses and listened to the soft turn of pages and the steady ticking of the clock on the wall: fucking boring indeed. Diego groaned quietly and leaned his head against the wall. Eudora’s reminder came instantly.

“Diego…”

“What?” Right now he didn’t have the patience to be polite; how was she even able to read and watch him at the same time?

But Eudora didn’t give in. “Stand up straight, hands behind your back. You know how this works.”

Of course, he didn’t _have_ to obey, he could just ignore her, just leave and go home, make himself something to eat, take a nap… It would be so easy, probably the best solution. But – and that was kind of a hindrance – then he would need to apologize again and humiliating himself wasn’t one of Diego’s favourite things to do. He sighed and followed Eudora’s order. Damn his orientation, and damn her for knowing him too well.

“This is completely unnecessary”, he said, nevertheless. Eudora remained silent, so Diego sighed again. He wouldn’t give in completely without a fight.

“If you’re that irritated by your punishment then maybe you shouldn’t have questioned my witness”, she eventually replied.

Ouch. And also he wasn’t _irritated_. “This isn’t even punishment. It’s just… stupid.” He lightly kicked the wall and was tempted to turn around and actually argue with her about it.

“Apparently it works. Now please be quiet.”

Yeah, this definitely sucked. He was probably supposed to be nervous, to be worried about the upcoming spanking, or at least he was supposed to think about his mistake, but Diego would probably repeat it anyway. They both knew it. And, to be fair, he didn’t regret it.

After a felt eternity he finally heard the soft sound of a book being closed and put down, and it took another few minutes until Eudora broke the silence.

“Alright, come here.”

Slowly, he walked towards the sofa and stopped in front of her. “So?” Diego couldn’t help it; accepting authority without resistance had always been a problem for him.

Eudora merely raised her eyebrows and pointed to her right side. “So: you can take your pants down and get over my lap. Keep your underwear on.”

“How kind of you”, Diego commented while he undid his belt.

“Very kind”, she agreed. “Or would you prefer to be naked instead?”

Yes. “No.” It was an attractive suggestion but Diego knew that she didn’t mean it. He shoved his pants down to his knees. “Okay, let’s do this.”


	13. Klaus

It took a long time for Klaus to open his eyes again. The voices were one thing, but seeing _them_ and feeling their presence was almost unbearable. Of course Klaus knew that the people surrounding him were dead, very fucking dead – there was no way they could come back - but – _but_ he could sense the warmth of their bodies and their smell and their movements. So… that was shitty. Spectacularly shitty.

“Really, I can’t tell you anything”, he said to the empty full room and blinked slowly, not caring whether his kidnappers listened or not. Klaus fixed his gaze on the dull carpet. “Just let me go?”

“You don’t seem to understand how kidnappings work”, one of them replied – Cha Cha? Or Hazel? If Klaus would ever become a serial killer, then he would choose a much cooler name for himself, that much was sure. And he would get a cat to carry around with him.

“You’re the professionals…”, he admitted and closed his eyes again. His fingers were stiffly curled around the armrests of the chair he was sitting on; he didn’t have the strength or willpower to change from this uncomfortable position and due to the drug withdrawal he shivered in his thin towel. Klaus could probably die in this hotel room and nobody would notice… Now he understood his kidnappers’ attitude: when they would die people would be relived and happy about their passing. But people didn’t care about Klaus and there would be no satisfaction or mourning, just hollow nothingness. This circumstance was probably tragic and distressing and yet Klaus didn’t waste another thought about it. He’d always found that death didn’t seem that bad anyway.

Cha Cha-or-Hazel dragged him into the closet again, where it was dark and dusty and where Klaus didn’t need to close his eyes, because none of the dead dead ghosts fit in there with him. Ha. How great was that?!

Eventually he drifted off to an unsettled slumber, waking up occasionally for a few split seconds, only to discover that he was still strapped to a chair, still a toy for some crazy people he didn’t know. Never had he wanted to escape reality more than in these moments. Just a few pills…

The door to the closet opened and there was a new face, a pretty woman with dark hair and a police batch dangling around her neck, and while Klaus couldn’t see any open wounds she could’ve died from anything… heart attack, food poisoning… So many alternatives… Klaus wanted peace and calm and quiet, not dead people who opened the door to his holy closet.

“Are you Diego’s brother?”, the woman asked. Could Diego be dead, too? Oh… Oh no.

Vaguely, Klaus nodded. “Hm, yes maybe. Who are you?”

“Eudora. I’m his… friend.”

Ah, that didn’t make a lot of sense. Klaus had never been aware that Diego had friends. Pretty friends with pretty knifes that cut through the ties around his wrists… - truly amazing. One day he would have to thank Diego for that.


End file.
